


Curiosity Killed the Cat (but satisfaction brought it back)

by Fruityloo



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Polyamory, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:24:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3550889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fruityloo/pseuds/Fruityloo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What’s it like, having sex with that guy?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“What’s it like, having sex with that guy?” Takao asked, swinging his legs from the locker room bench, looking entirely innocent despite his intensely _personal_ , incredible _vulgar_ question.

Shintarou’s shoulders hitched, his locker door slamming shut with shock or irritation. Probably both. Takao had to withhold a laugh; really, Shintarou should know to except questions like this by now.

“Being with who?” Shintarou’s voice was muffled as he obstinately remained facing the lockers, making him difficult to hear despite the empty, echoing locker room. Takao’s shoes scuffing against the tile was almost deafening.

Takao laughed. With his hawk eye, he could just imagine the blush spreading across Shintarou’s face. Like a carrot. “Don’t play dumb, Shin-chan. Akashi Seijuurou. The guy we lost to. The one giving you bedroom eyes across the court – you know I see everything on the court, don’t you, Shin-chan? Your ex-captain…?” He went on and on, each detail more personal than the last. E

Shintarou’s shoulders sagged as he turned and sat beside him, the usual distance despite his agitation. Did Shintarou know how easy he was to read? Takao hoped not. That would take all the fun out of it.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, bending to tie his shoes and hide his reddening face. An open book. It was almost sad.

But then again, Takao liked being able to read Shintarou’s every expression; he was a much more honest guy when you learned to read between the lines.

Takao decided to shift gears. He didn’t have an Emperor’s Eye, but he knew the chances of Shintarou admitting outright were slim; that just wasn’t his style. Luckily, he had a plan B.

“Wow, Shin-chan,” he said just as Shintarou moved to tie the other shoe, “You sure have been walking stiffly the past few days. Is your back okay? Practice isn’t as hard now that the tournament is over. Are you doing some sort of strenuous activity after hours?” With every word, Shintarou’s shoulders grew tighter, and his nimble fingers kept fumbling with the shoelaces. To seal the deal, Takao winked.

“Why do you want to know, anyway!” Shintarou’s head whipped to face him and, yes, it was just as red as his hawk eye imagined.

Takao laughed again, louder and brasher, holding his stomach and kicking his legs at random. “Aha! I knew it! You and Akashi _are_ having sex!”

“Shit.” Shintarou straightened and pushed up his glasses, trying to and mostly succeeding at regaining his composure. The smallest bit of tension left his shoulders. “Why are you even asking?”

Takao grinned and Shintarou sighed. Victory. “Because he’s such an intense guy!” He exclaimed, making a large gesture with his arms and nearly knocking Shintarou in the head. “He promised to gouge his eyes out if he lost a game - it’s an extracurricular sport, not the mafia!” Although he sure fit the part. Takao supposed that would only make him more fascinating. “A person like that has to be intense. I want to know what it’s like.”

Takao has seen the scratches on Shintarou's back and the peppering of bruises down his neck he thought he hid so well. None of the team noticed, too focused on their own performance to pay such close attention. But Takao had a careful eye, and Shintarou was _always_ somewhere within his attention and scope of vision. It’s what happens when you play together for so long, an awareness of each other strong enough to pull off those crazy stunts during their last match of the season. Even off the court, Takao could never really shake Shintarou from his consciousness. The marks on his body were what caught his interest, and now he was determined to have the whole story, even if he needed to pry in order to get it

"You don't want to know, Takao." Shintarou stood and slung his bag over his shoulder, clearly trying to cut off the conversation. 

But Takao wouldn't let him escape, not when he was so close. He remained seated, looking up at Shintarou with game-like intensity. His legs stopped swinging. "But I do want to know. Tell me what it’s like.” He grinned. “Better yet – why don’t you show me?”


	2. a cup of coffee, a game of shogi, some good old fashioned infidelity

When Shintarou called him up in the phone and asked to discuss Takao Kazunari, Akashi almost didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t that he never considered the possibility. He considered everything, and the two of them were awfully close, even for teammates. Shintarou had never been one for teamwork – none of them were back in middle school. But Shintarou and that point guard worked together seamlessly, and Shintarou’s trust in him seemed impossible for the player he knew just a year before. From the moment Shintarou and Takao stepped onto the court, it was obvious. Akashi thought about it more than he ever planned on admitting to. 

He suggested they meet at a café to discuss it in person. One might even call it their café. The one with the fireplace and a shogi board tucked into a cozy corner, large couches and pleasant music that, while too contemporary for Akashi’s tastes, did a fine job at building the establishment’s atmosphere. To say they frequented the place would be an understatement. 

Akashi always did enjoy his mind games.

"So he said we should have a threesome," Shintarou explained, looking for all the world like a human carrot, with his flushed face and pretty green hair, glancing around to make sure no one heard. Having this conversation in public was a great idea, Akashi decided. In private, Shintarou wouldn’t get nearly as red. “Ridiculous,” he muttered, but if he really found it so absurd, he never would have gone as far as bringing the matter to him. Shintarou chose all his words carefully. That’s why Akashi liked him, one of many reasons.

Akashi lifted his tea to his mouth, partially to stall and enjoy watching Shintarou’s face go redder, more the color of a beet than a carrot, and partially to hide his own smirk. That twittering point guard, huh? Akashi knew there was more to that boy than what met the eye. He had a cheerful attitude, to the point where Akashi found him almost obnoxious, and yet he played with focus, vigor and excitement all at once. A kind of boundless energy Akashi almost envied. 

He set down his cup, purposefully putting on a thoughtful expression and pretending to think, “He’s your point guard.” Not the Shuutoku point guard. Your point guard. Akashi chose his words carefully, too. 

It wasn’t a question, but Shintarou responded nonetheless. “That’s correct.”

“You two played well together during our match. Are you close?” He already knew the answer, and Shintarou was well aware, but he recognized the game and dutifully played along. 

“He’s a trusted teammate.” 

Now Akashi leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands, making eye contact over the shogi board between them and refusing to let Shintarou look away. “That’s all he is?” Not an accusation, just a question, as innocent as a question regarding infidelity could be. 

“Akashi!” Shintarou’s legs twitched, as if he were about to get out of his seat in protest, but propriety (and the gazes his outburst attracted) trapped him in his seat. Yes, the café was definitely a good decision. 

Akashi cracked a smile and leaned back, silent laughter moving his shoulders up and down. “My apologies, Shintarou. I was only teasing.” 

He sank back into his seat, glanced at the shogi board for the first time since the subject of Takao came up and made his move. 

Akashi smiled and picked up his piece, “I’ll take Takao’s suggestion into consideration,” he said and made his final move without hesitation. “I win,” he declared, and the smugness in his voice was in no way related to the game of shogi sitting between them. 

Shintarou sighed. “When don’t you.”


	3. Chapter 3

Akashi and Takao got perfectly, and Shintarou _hated_ it.

“So, Kazunari,” Akashi began in a tone Shintarou knew far too well. Sharp, not accusatory but certainly demanding. An emperor’s tone. Why bring out the claws now? Akashi agreed to Takao’s idea, after all. There was no reason for-

A fit of giggling to the right of him brought him out of his thoughts. “Don’t be so defensive, Shin-chan. We’re only talking.”

“I wasn’t-“

“You’re an open book,” Akashi chimed in, smiling, and from him that was as good as laughter. “Isn’t he, Takao?”

Shintarou huffed.

Another fit of laughter, this one louder, drawing some attention – what are three teenagers doing in restaurant like this; oh but they all have suits, they must be wealthy; why is that one so loud? – not that Takao cared. But Shintarou didn’t doubt that he noticed. Takao noticed everything, often more than Shintarou wished he would.

“He’s a pretty honest guy if you stop listening to what he says!” He stopped talking to take a bit of his filet mignon, and for a moment the table was blissfully silent.

_An awful idea_ , he reflected. He knew this wasn’t going to work out. Except –

Takao and Akashi chatted amiably. The only one it didn’t work out for was him. And his pride.

“As I was attempting to say,” Akashi continued, “It’s not that I mind, but I _am_ curious: How did you find out about Shintarou and myself?”

Takao laughed, as if the question itself was ridiculous. “Oh, I’ve always known.”

Shintarous’s eyes widened behind his glasses. “That’s not possible,” He crossed his arms over his chest. He rarely spoke of his days at Teiko, but when he did, he –

“You’re always talking about him,” Takao sighed. “You don’t talk about middle school often, I mean who wants to? But when you do it’s ‘my old captain. Akashi, Akashi, _Seijuurou_ ’. It drove me nuts! But then I met the guy, and-“ he looked back at Akashi, head propped upon his cheek, looking absent and interested all at once, “Then I couldn’t stop thinking about you either.”

“That answers my second question, then.”

Takao nodded in understanding. Half this conversation was going straight over Shintarou’s head and he did not like it. “What question?”

“You wanted to ask, ’Why a threesome,’” Takao spoke for Akashi, then threw a glance in his direction. “Am I right?”

“You’re quite clever,” Akashi lifted his cup to hide a smile; invisible from Takao’s angle, but Shintarou saw it clearly.

“I never get enough credit.”

He set down the cup. “I am to believe there’s more to this than a few persistent thoughts.”

For the briefest of moments, Takao grew tense. Shintarou held his breath, because it was not often his partner became tense about anything, so much so that often Shintarou wished he could see Takao flounder, just once. But when he answered he was still all smiles. It was irritating in some small way. Shintarou huffed. “You already know the answer, Aka-chan.”

A puff of laughter, and no comment on the nickname. Did Akashi not mind…? “For Shintarou’s sake, then.”

“I’m right here, Akashi. Don’t speak as though I’m not.”

“Well,” Takao sighed, but he saw the tense lines of his shoulders, the way his constant smile ceased to crinkle at the edges, less genuine. He spoke as if addressing Akashi but never ceased looking in the opposite direction, as if staring directly at him.“I wanted to see Shintarou, too.”

Shintarou choked on his filet.

“You see me every day, Takao. We’re in the same class.” He tried to keep his voice even, pretended he didn’t catch the underlying meaning in Takao’s answer. Failed miserably, and the statement sounded much more like a question. _Why?_

“Shin-chan…”

“ _Alright_ ,” he snapped and waved their server over, pointing to Akashi’s bottle of sake and expensive ceramic cup. “I’ll have what he’s having.” He sounded far too determined for simply ordering a drink.

Akashi raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, and Shintarou silently thanked him for that. Takao, on the other hand, possessed no such tact. “Are you trying to get drunk, Shin-chan? I didn’t think you were the type.” He nudged him with his foot beneath the table, grinning, sparkle in his eyes and Shintarou was absolutely _certain_ he was in way over his head. And a second nudge, this one much higher up, his thigh. Shintarou nearly leapt from his seat; only propriety kept him composed.

“You who drive me to drink.”

Akashi smiles from behind his cup of sake. “Do not worry, Takao. Our Shintarou is a light weight.”

_Our_ Shintarou. He knocked back his first drink of the night.                                         

Takao laughed. “Ouch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long break between this update in the last! I wanted to include the final scene in this chapter, but it's not written yet and I felt guilty for the long break. Here's something to tide y'all over. Thanks for sticking with it! I hope you enjoy seeing Midorima squirm as much as I do. 
> 
> And do feel free to leave a comment!


	4. some like to watch

Takao removed his shoes without needing to be told, curling his toes into the heated hardwood floor. “Ooo,” he faked being drunk, smiling at his own theatrics, “Your apartment is fancy, Aka-chan.” Hardwood floor gave way to carpet in the living room, so plush that it gave just slightly beneath his feet.

Akashi removed his coat and shrugged, “It serves its purpose.” He was the picture of modesty and grace. That, too, was theatrics. Takao caught a glimpse of what lay beneath Akashi’s proper veneer, viewed first on Shintarou’s back and then in his cool, controlled demeanor at the restaurant. Akashi did not do _modest_. Not unless it served his ends.

“Your carpet is so soft,” he wiggled his toes, taking in the neutrally-toned furniture and dim lighting. Akashi planned ahead, then.

“It’s soft on the knees,” Akashi said, expression hidden by the scarf around his neck, but Takao knew an innuendo when he heard one. “Make yourself at home.”

At Akashi’s invitation, Takao wandered further into the apartment. “Your place is huge.”

“You’re flattering,” part accusation, but amusement colored his voice. “My home is average.”

“For a businessman, maybe. I could fit two of my dorm rooms in here.”

Akashi raised an eyebrow, “Are you suggesting a tryst in your dorm? Takao, how bold.”

Laughter followed them into the living room, where Shintarou was already settled on the black leather couch. He left plenty of space for Takao to sit comfortably beside him at their usual, friendly distance. It was cute, really. Kinky Shintarou who came to practice covered in scratches and bruises, _embarrassed_ by something so mundane.

Takao was having none of it. Moving swiftly so he had no time to hesitate, Takao straddled him, a knee placed on either side of Shintarou’s lap. His lap was warm beneath his thighs, like the heated hardwood floor.

“Takao.” Shintarou greeted him with tense shoulders.

“Shintarou.”

Shintarou leaned in, and they kissed.

Takao knew Shintarou was no stranger to kissing, but the immediate ferocity had him gasping. A hand gripped at his shoulder, Shintarou’s other arm pulling him closer by the small of his back, until their bodies were flush together. Heat coiled in his belly and he struggled to match this side of Shintarou with the image Takao had in his mind. Shintarou, quiet and studious – and Shintarou, biting at his lip and sucking it into his mouth.

Leather upholstery creaked somewhere beside them, beyond Takao’s narrow focus of the couch. He was suddenly, _flagrantly_ aware of Akashi watching them, watching _him_. He pulled back, breathing just hard enough that the difference was noticeable. Shintarou opened his eyes and parts his lips to speak, but no words came. What was there to say, after kissing your best friend like this?

“Akashi,” Takao craned his neck to meet his eyes, to see if he could find the passion in them, if he could –

“Kazunari… why have you stopped?” Akashi sat in a leather armchair across the room, poised with his legs crossed and head resting in his cupped palm. It was intentionally casual, a fabrication meant to distance himself. But his eyes gave it away: pupils blown wide, hungry for every detail.

Shintarou sat up straighter so he could see beyond Takao’s shoulder, yet pointedly avoids the burn of Akashi’s gaze.

Takao couldn’t resist a smirk. “Join us, Akashi.”

Akashi waved his free hand dismissively, but Takao saw the control in his movements. He wore a guise of carefully crafted indifference, and it may fool Shintarou, but Takao’s eye was quicker than that.

“I want to watch, for the moment.”

 _Cheeky._ But he lidded his eyes regardless, making sure to catch Akashi’s gaze. “As you wish.”

Shintarou kissed him again. First on the neck, a brief brush of lips to steal his attention back. Then more insistent, higher and flirting with the base of his ear. Shintarou’s discomfort and reserve fell around them with each kiss. He mouthed back down Takao’s jaw to his adam’s apple and lingered there, lips making way for tongue and then teeth, pulling at cloth and scraping a path to Takao’s shoulder.

A whimper bubbled from his chest. He ground his hips down, involuntary this time, biting his lips to stop from whimpering a second time.

Long, lithe fingers drummed at Takao’s narrow hips, playing with the hem of his shirt. Shintarou lifted his had to look at him, his own eyes dark and lidded. “You and Akashi are alike,” said like a simple observation but it’s so much more.

“Hm?” Takao blinked slowly, words turning in his head. 

“You both like to watch me.”

 _Ah._ Takao’s shirt came off.

“Is your curiosity satisfied?” Shintarou’s shirt followed suit, revealing his muscled chest, dusty pink nipples. Takao’s seen it before, love marks and all, but that was under harsh florescent lights, lockers slamming and cheap showers spraying to life. The lighting of Akashi’s apartment did Shintarou many favors, casting perfect shadows on his chest; the hair at his navel looked soft, and Takao’s fingers twitched with the itch to touch.

He licked his lips in response, “Not yet.” He trailed his hands up Shintarou’s stomach and down again, splaying his fingers over hard, jumping muscle.

“Kazunari,” Akashi said from behind him, voice even and cool. The sound of his name on Akashi’s lips, pronounced with utter disinterest, made him shudder with delight. That voice would grow heated yet, Takao was sure of it. “Not like that.” He imagined Akashi shifting in his seat with utter serenity, and the image somehow made his words more vulgar, “Use your nails.”

Takao and Shintarou’s breathe hitched in unison.

“Whatever you say, boss.” His voice cracked, a pale imitation of nonchalance.

He dragged his nails from clavicle to navel. Shinartou’s hips jerked without warning.  

“Holy shit.”

Shintarou let out a long, shaking breath, “Fuck.”  

“That was pretty hot.”

Shintarou’s eyes squeezed shut, cheeks bright. Takao can’t help but to laugh.

“So is this what you do?” Takao asked, trailing fingers over Shintarou’s bicep. He remained staring forward, admiring the way Shintarou’s muscles jumped beneath his fingers, but he kept a careful eye on Akashi in his peripherals. “You watch, give instructions?”

Shintarou shifted beneath him, “Sometimes.”

Takao imagined Shintarou, splayed on the couch, legs wide, hand moving while Akashi sat in that very chair, giving careful instruction: _stroke slower, faster, not yet._

“I may be in over my head.”

Akashi laughs, a sound that settles in his ears like perfume on skin, “I think you knew exactly what you were getting into.”

 _Busted_. “Remains to be seen. Do you ever do more than watch?” He already knew the answer.

The cushion dipped beside them, soft creak of leather caressing his ears. All three held their breath.

He felt each distinct finger as they played along his trapezius, then slid down his spine – just a _hint_ of nails at the base of his tailbone, and _oh_ , that was nice. His eyes fluttered shut. Akashi couldn’t see his expression, yet Takao was sure he knew. Teeth found his ear, scraping at the shell of it. A brief bite. Akashi whispered, “Sometimes.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” He leaned toward him as far as his position would allow. “Kiss me.”

Akashi’s lips fell on him in an instant, moving with fervor Takao should have expected and yet it still managed to catch him off guard. Heat sparked all the way into his toes, making them curl, making his fingers dig into the soft muscle of Shintarou’s shoulders.

Gradually, their kiss began to slow. He opened his eyes, still half-lidded but open enough to see Shintarou’s face screwed with pleasure, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted. Panting. Akashi had his hand between them, wrist moving at a slow pace. _Oh._

Akashi broke their slowing kiss, only for his mouth to find purchase elsewhere, alternately kissing and biting his way down his neck. And Akashi knew he was watching, if the smirk grazing down his chest was any indication. Desperate for touch, Takao dragged his hips down Shintarou’s knee, taking friction where he could get it.

“Eager?” Akashi asked, lifting his head to look Takao in the eye. His wrist stopped moving, prompting a whine that sounded far-off to his ears. The question required no answer, but Takao could not stop his hurried nod.

“Then undress.”

“My shirt is already-“

“No,” Akashi’s fingers traveled down the dip of his spine and played at the hem of is pants, “ _undress_.”

“Oh,” he said dumbly, then laughs. He stumbled over himself trying to stand, grabs Akashi’s shoulder for balance – it was no accident, and Akashi’s raised eyebrow told him the maneuver did not slip under his radar. Takao grinned and shed his slacks, and then his underwear, wasting no time.

“You _are_ eager, aren’t you?” Akashi said. Perhaps it was meant to goad, annoy, or perhaps-

Like it mattered. Takao kissed him, with all the fervor of their first but this time it was Takao led their mouths, tilting his head so Akashi would have to do the same. It took Akashi a moment to kiss back; a success in Takao’s book. He would not let Akashi move this whole encounter along at whatever pace he pleased. Takao was not in the business of letting things be decided for him.

Just as Akashi’s mouth began to soften against his, Takao broke the kiss. “Now you.”

“Pardon?”

“Undress.” Takao swallowed.

All three held their breath. Akashi stood perfectly still for a moment, then- His posture did not change, exactly, yet there was something new, something relaxed in his limbs that was not there before. A decision, perhaps. Takao wondered how accustomed Akashi was to taking suggestions as they came.

“Alright,” he said, fingers already working at his buttons. He pushed Shintarou down onto the couch and fixed them both with a commanding eye, “Watch.”

As if they could look away.

Akashi took his sweet time about it, but Takao was beginning to understand that _patience_ was Akashi’s specialty. Even here, his movements were calculated, each inch of skin revealed with specific intent. Well, Takao could be patient, if that was the game Akashi wanted to play. Shintarou, however-

“Akashi,” it’s practically a groan.

He smiled, almost gentle but Takao and Shintarou both knew what lay beneath the placid surface. He stepped forward, couch dipping under the weight of his knee as he leaned in to kiss. “Patience, Shintarou.”

This time there was no mistaking the noise Shintarou made for a groan.

“If you don’t keep up,” Takao said, licking his lips, “then we might just leave you behind.”

Akashi laughed, and in some way that felt like a victory in itself. “You won’t. That’s not why you’re here, is it?”

Damn. Akashi shot his bluff right down. Should have expected as much from him – it was Akashi, after all. He sighed, but did not make good on his threat, and leaned back into the couch. He didn’t want to leave Akashi behind, anyway. Where was the fun in that? “Please hurry.”

“Don’t you know good things come to those who wait?”

“ _Ugh_.”

But even as he said that, Akashi looked through the coffee table drawer and removed several condoms, a bottle of lube. He dropped them onto the couch. “I presume you know what to do with these.”

“Finally,” Takao said, already ripping open the foil packaging. Music to his hears. “So, how are we going to-?” he made a lewd gesture with his hand.

“You,” Shintarou said this as if it was answer enough. It was. Takao knew what Shintarou wanted, but – he wanted to hear him say it.

And, it seemed, so did Akashi. “I think Kazunari needs more explanation than that, Shintarou. Tell him what we agreed on.”

His heart skipped a beat. _We_. Fuck, did they _talk_ about this? Of course they did. They were- what, lovers? He would have loved to see how that conversation played out, to hear the crack of Shintarou’s voice and see the blush on his cheeks. Of course, he didn’t look too bad now, either.

Shintarou took him by the chin and kissed him “Fuck me, Takao.”

“You sure?” he licked his lips, chasing away the nerves blossoming in his belly.

"It's what you wanted, right? I'm not that naive."

Takao withheld a laugh. It wasn't the time. "Yes, but are you  _sure_?" He wasn't getting cold feet, but he had to be  _sure_. Shintarou was not a man who  _shared_ , not a man who gave of himself easily. If years of playing with Shintarou taught him anything, it was that. And- 

“I’m sure."

"Thank god." 

The next few moments were chaotic in their stumbling attempt at finding a more suitable position. He didn’t even know where the bed was, and neither he nor Shintarou had Akashi’s patience. They were going to fuck. _Now_. He fumbled for the lube Akashi placed it in his hand, “He’ll like it if you start with two.”

“ _Akashi._ ”

Takao laughed.

He uncapped the lube and leaned over Shintarou, tracing leisurely fingers up and down the cleft of his ass.  

“Two fingers then? So brave.”

“Impatient,” Akashi corrected.

“ _Akashi_ _.”_

Yes, definitely impatient. “Alright, Shin-chan. Be patient.” He slipped the first finger in and is greeted by Shintarou halfway, already pushing back onto his finger. Expectant.

“You _are_ impatient,” he said fondly. The second finger went in easily, Shintarou all soft and relaxed around him even as his breath hitches. “That’s sexy.”

“Does he always talk this much?” Akashi asked.

“Afraid so.”

Takao shut him up with a third finger, and Shintarou’s quip turned into a whine. Little victories. “How is that?”

Shintarou buried his head in his arms, pushing back on his fingers even as he spread them inside. Impatient. _Cute._  Had they not devoted nearly an hour to foreplay, Takao might have spent more time admiring. But as it was- he and Shintarou were equally impatient. "Good?"

" _Takao_."

"Alright, alright," he slid his fingers out, wiping the excess on Shintarou's discarded slacks, something that ordinarily would have earned a sharp glare but none of them gave much of a damn about preserving nice clothes at this point. Takao slicked himself, sucking in air at the touch of his own hand-

"Sensitive?"

His shoulders hitched, shuddering at the voice in his ear. It was rare for Takao to be snuck up on, but- Like he could focus on anything other than Shin-chan. Akashi's teeth scraped against his ear, and Takao shuddered again, full-body. He laughed. "Just a bit."

Akashi's hand replaced his own, fingers slick with lube, and nimble. "Hoo _ooo_ ly shit," his voice caught on the words, mouth shaping into an  _O_ and then widening into a grin. "You're good at this." Akashi responded by twisting just hand  _just_ so, and Takao could not stop his hips from bucking even if he wanted to. "Too good," he pushed at his hand, "I'm gonna lose it if you keep-" 

A puff of laughter brushed against his neck. Akashi's hand stopped its rhythm and instead began to guide Takao into Shintarou. "Always a puppet master, it seems-  _Ohhh,_ " Takao groaned, bending forward of his own accord and draping himself over Shintarou's back. "Not gonna last long," He pressed his nose into the sweat-slicked crook of Shintarou's neck, who groaned in response. 

"Then get out with it."

Takao rolled his hips, earning a gasp, an unrestrained moan. "You sound close."

"Do you ever stop talking?" 

"You know the answer." They fell into a rhthym, Shintarou pushing back for every roll of Takao's hips. He still felt Akashi behind him, skin hot on his back. Sometimes a hand would play along his chest, pinch a nipple, but for the most part- Akashi really did like to watch, didn't he? Even without his vision, Takao felt his eyes on him. It only heigthened the delicious burn, made Takao stutter from his rhtyhm. 

"Are you gonna-" 

" _Yeah_ , gonna cum," his speech grew stuttered. He bent forward, forehead to Shintarou's back and lips pressed against the skin like an open-mouth kiss, hand scrambling to find Shintarou's supporting himself on the couch's arm. Their fingers clasped together without thinking. Akashi watched. 

Shintarou was the first to go lax, arm slipping from the couch to hang limp at his side. For once, Takao remained silent, slipping out and slouching into the cushions. He met Akashi's eyes. 

"That satisfy your curiosity?" There was a challenge in Akashi's eyes, a smile on his lips. 

Takao licked his lips, "Not quite."

"Good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT IS FINISHED


End file.
